


The kidnapping of the saviour

by The_wand_stone_and_cloak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Branding, Dark Harry Potter, Death Eaters, Fighting, Gen, Gryffindor Harry Potter, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Horcruxes, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Powerful Harry, Powerful Harry Potter, Rituals, Slytherin Harry Potter, The Golden Trio, This isn't as dark as the tags say, Torture, Trauma, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_wand_stone_and_cloak/pseuds/The_wand_stone_and_cloak
Summary: Harry was brought to the graveyard as he was destined to do, but the one thing that happened was just what Dumbledores greatest fear was becoming, that Voldemort would discover the Horcrux that resides within Harry.Can harry still defeat the rampaging dark lord or will he manage to break him so that he will never dare raise a wand again?
Kudos: 21





	1. The graveyard

**Author's Note:**

> There are some mentions of the norse god Loke (The swedish spelling of Loki) and i will further explain how they connect to the magic in the wizarding world in the coming chapters.

**The graveyard fourth year**

'You know of course that they have called this boy my downfall?' Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to hurt so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony ‘You all know the night i lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him and unwittingly provided him with a protection that I had not foreseen… i could not touch the boy’

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek ‘his mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice … this is old magic of Loke, i should have remembered it and the circumstances of which it is created, i was foolish to overlook it… but no matter, i have already detached from his soul now’

Even though none of the Death Eaters dared to utter a word, you could nearly hear the surprise as they all fought with their knowledge of all magic to figure out just what this boy's mother had created that fateful night. Especially since it was of Lokes magic, the one magic which can be the most unforeseen and unpredictable.

Voldemort staggered forward as he had yet to get used to his new body and looked over his most trusted followers. He then turned his snakelike face towards the bane of his fury and relished in the fear he saw grow in those youthful eyes..

‘I can touch you know’ Voldemort whispered as he pressed the tip of a finger to Harry's head while pooling the darkest of magics into it. The Dark Lord knew this was unnecessary, to torture a boy for the mistake of his mother, but Voldemort was never one known for kindness. When a few minutes had passed he decided to have mercy on the boy, he already knew what he would be subjected to when he was fully at the dark lord's mercy.

‘Im sure you are all wondering what this magic could possibly be, and it is something darker than anything you could ever have the knowledge of’ Their Dark Lord muttered darkly ‘What she had caused was the splitting of my soul ...yes… a mere witch made my soul part with its owner just because of _this_ , her brethren’ Voldemort spat as he glares his bright burning eyes into the fearful eyes of his followers.

‘Harry may have thanked his mothers ssacrifice in the passt, but now it will cause hiss downfall. what once protected him is now gone and he iss all at my mercy’ Voldemort whispers while parseltongue slips out in his excitement. The Death Eaters who had before stood proud, staggered back as they had heard that tone once too often, the tone of happiness, greed and fury that always came out before The Dark Lord tortured one of his traitors.

‘Wormtail, bring the spare back to the maze, that shall be a good surprise for my… dear friend Dumbledore’ Voldemort chuckled darkly before he was interrupted by a broken yell.

‘DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM’ Harry yelled with desperation in his eyes, he struggled against the ropes that tied him to the ragged gravestone even though he knew it was futile.

‘Now why shouldn't I, do you want to go back with him, with your teeth being the only distinguishable part of your mangled body?’ Voldemort questioned without even a look in Harry's direction.

‘YOU WOULDN’T DARE KILL ME YOU BLOODY BASTARD’ Harry screamed at Voldemort's back just as he ended his sentence. Voldemort turned slowly to harry with murder in his eyes and the memories of a thousand deaths in his head.

‘Are you such an idiot that you truly believe I will spare you a kind death now, oh no… you will be kept for our enjoyment, my Death Eaters get bored after waiting for an order, as the leader i am i must give them something to pass the time, even if that thing is a person’ Voldemort explained without much clarification

‘But for now the only thing you will have to endure is silence… Silencio’ Voldemort cast the spell with satisfaction flowing through his veins, finally this wretched boy who believed to be greater than The Dark Lord is brought down to a dirty writhing animal. Though Voldemort was not the only one to feel this selfish satisfaction, one Lucius Malfoy felt younger than he had in years, regaining the tiredness that he lost during the torturous minutes he spent under his Lord's spells.

‘You, my dear boy will not see daylight for a while, so you might as well get used to the darkness, Obscuro’ Voldemort cast another spell which, quicker than anyone could see blindfolded Harry. Harry could not speak nor see anymore and therefore couldn’t see the blinding light of The Dark Lords wordless Stupefy flying towards him. The darkness now surrounded him as all his senses were dulled and he fell into a sleep that could only disappear with the countercurse from Voldemort's own wand.


	2. My boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has yet to return, where is he and what are the students at Hogwarts doing?

The portkey slams into the ground of the empty stadium floor, the only thing that surrounds the glinting silver cup is Cedric's limp white body grasping the cup with no strength in his arms. Lying with his face down in the mud and limbs twisted in a way that surely couldn’t be possible, people are already questioning if he can breathe lying like he does but there seems to be no struggle coming from the usually lively boy. Even though he is colder and paler than he had ever been alive, to the watchers from the stands he appears asleep or simply tired. 

For a second there is silence, it had been hours since they saw a champion, Fleur having sent up red sparks just an hour in and Krums curse ridden body being retrieved just after the cup had activated. Both of those champions had immediately been ushered to the medi-tent and were now being treated for their wounds. At first no one even notices the goblet nor the boy, most of them are too busy talking to a friend.

Though they aren't sitting still anymore, the winning champion has arrived! The Hogwarts band starts to play with their loud trumpets and over excited first years, The Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and Ravenclaws all cheer collectively, for the one thing they have in common, the anger at the boy who seemed to somehow disrupt their peace every single year.

What they hadn’t noticed in their excitement was Dumbledores and the professors' panic stricken faces when krum had arrived hours ago, otherwise they would’ve already seen that something wasn’t right. But they did say there were many magical beings in the maze after all. They had all been waiting in excitement, wondering who just who would win, the famous boy-who-lived who always seems to have luck on his side, or Cedric Diggory, the model student who was every student's first crush. The fact that a student has had a spell put upon them wasn’t even a worry to them. 

The professors now quickly make their way down to the ground of the stadium, Dumbledore, Maxime and Karkaroff themselves executing great magic by stepping out on a platform that quickly brings them down to the sleeping boy. The two headmasters of the foreign schools stand back as Dumbledore walks forward to greet the lone champion. The students finally quiet down as they all want to hear what their headmasters are going to announce. 

The twinkle in his eye dulls as he can’t sense any magic radiating from the boy, had he been reduced to a squib? He does not remember telling Hagrid to put such dangerous creatures in the maze but alas, he is after all known for raising the most terrifying beasts known to wizardkind. 

Dumbledore sadly isn’t able to ever walk up to the boy as a dark grey shadow rises from his body, he feels all his old years catch up to him as he falls into the memories of what this shadow entails. It rises to the sky and somehow the sky makes place for it by moving the clouds in a circle around it, something that only the greatest magics of Frej can cause. These shadows forms into the shape of a skull, and out of this skull's bony mouth there appears a snake that slithers around it. It is the dark mark. 

The watchers' surprise caught up to them as they finally understand what had happened in that dark maze, their screams echo around in the stadium, the only thing louder than their cries is the shrieking of the Diggory boys father. 

‘MY BOY, WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY BOY’ he cries as he makes his way to the only remaining part of his child.

Nobody has the heart to hold him back as he runs to his child and grasps him in a hug stronger than one they ever had when he was alive. He pulls the boy into his lap and sits there rocking while sometimes whispering “my boy, my dear boy”. Even the great mage Dumbledore is lost for words and can only put a hand on his shoulder in a way of comfort. 

The people on the stands aren't taking it much better, exclamations of “what happened” and “let me see” are coursing through the huge crowds and interrupting the cries of the mourning. The floor of the stadium was now crowded with people and Cedric's body was being watched by eyes from all ways.

‘Go to your dorms’ Dumbledore rumbles, though only a few students move away from the stadium, most are stuck frozen in shock and fear. In the end Dumbledore has to put a shield around him and the Diggorys, and to then let the other teachers take care of the students. He doesn’t even have the time to calm the students or assure them that everything is fine. He didn’t have a reason to worry, that is for he didn’t notice that Harry Potter had yet to appear.

Dumbledore then leans down, even though it dirties his robes and whisper kindly in Amos ear

‘Mr.Diggory lets bring you up to the castle’ 

On the other side of the stadium, hidden by the stands, a group of students stand. No one pays them any mind as they were all distracted by cedric. These students are Hermoine Granger and Ronald Weasley, the two students had noticed something that slipped the other professors mind in their haste, Harry potter had yet to return. 

Normally the teachers would be as attentive as ever, though since the champions are brought to the medical tent as soon as they are found, they sometimes go unnoticed. 

**A few minutes earlier**

‘d’you think he could still be in the maze?’ Ron questions, and then shrugs ‘If he hasn’t left yet’ 

‘Ronald, Cedric just came back _dead_ , do you really think it wasn’t Harry they were going after’ Hermoine cries out, when she had seen Diggory's dead body, a rush of fear surged through her. After having been friends with Harry for four years now, she knew danger would never leave him. There was no stop to the theories she had come up with in the few seconds before Ron talked. They both didn’t know what to do and they didn’t have any plans, but there was one thing they knew, that they had to save Harry.

‘Maybe we should go to Dumbledore, he must’ve just missed it’ Hermoine tries to reason with herself, ‘he must have known harry was safe, he must’ve’ 

‘Mione Dumbledore's great an all, but, remember 1st year, he wasn’t even in the bloody school’ Ron exclaims with anger in his tone at the end. 

‘I guess we'll do it just like Harry would, go into the maze’ Hermoine says with a stern tone ‘you’re right, if Dumbledore hasn’t noticed it yet, he won’t for a while’ She now looks up with determination at the meters high maze. At that second they hear Dumbledore command ‘Go to your dorms’ and quickly scurry away to the bottom of the stands, where they hide.

They wait as they see the Dumbledore speak quietly to Diggory at the entrance to the maze and wait with patience for the moment where they can enter it. After a long minute of speaking the adults start to make their way up to the castle. 

‘Now’ Ron whispers as they quietly rush to the maze, there's only a short distance left and they see how the maze starts closing, stray twigs and branches that once looked still reach out to each other and create a fence like barricade that hinders all from coming in.

‘What, no’ Hermione sputtered in shock, as she then ran the last bit up to the entrance and tried to pry the twigs away from each other ‘no, no, no’ ‘Expulso, expulso,’ she cast in desperation, while Ron, in fear, suggests ‘We must find Dumbledore, as quickly as we can’ 

**At Malfoy Manor**

Harry can not feel anything besides the ache in his body, the cold stone floor he lies on chills his body and the wounds he received at the ritual in the graveyard had yet to be healed. His eyes can no longer see as the spell Voldemort cast before was still in action, he doesn’t have the energy to even open his jaw so if his mouth is working is still a question. A few minutes ago he had tried to rise to his feet but couldn’t get a mere centimeter of the ground as his hands were ridden with bruises and scrapes, and he doesn't even know where he was or how much time had passed since the tournament ended.

The only thing he can hear is the clinking of a man's steel boots once every minute, or that's what he thinks, it reminds him of the Dursleys feet stomping outside his cupboard door. Since the only thing he remembers is Voldemort obscuring his vision, being in a dungeon wouldn’t be much of a surprise. But he doesn’t want to think of it much, if he did he would get plagued with the thoughts and fears of what will come. He can’t sleep either as his dreams are ridden with pictures of Voldemort's skeletal snakelike form torturing, killing and doing all sorts of despicable acts. 

He is all too used to the silence of quietness in a small cell, so he doesn’t have much of a struggle with hiding his thoughts and mind behind bars of ignorance and bliss. Back in his cupboard he learnt quickly to not play with any toys during his banishments, so he had to deal with his thoughts, and the only way a child knows how to deal with thoughts is to push them back, to hide them, to imagine they’re fake. Now when he's behind these walls the young boy thinks back to the times with his friends, just so he can imagine all is good, that he's still at Hogwarts and became groggy after drinking a few to many butterbeers with Ron. He imagined Hermione's happy laughter as Ron lost all shame after the beer and the gryffindor cheers for him. Just like it was in the past, just like it was yesterday.

<>

Harry suddenly feels a sharp pain in his ribs and a hunger as great as the one he always had at the Dursleys, he has just woken up and is barely coherent enough to feel what has caused the pain. Just a second later he feels it again but now he is able to feel that it is a man kicking or pushing at him with his foot. 

‘Hey, wake up’ a voice mutters with disgust, and just a second later Harry feels another sharp jab against his bruised ribs. His body aches and he considers for a moment if he should just fall asleep again, though he will probably have to go through many more jabs if he does so. He would love to just stupefy his captor and escape, but he has no idea where his wand or robes are since he's wearing some rags from the place where he's kept.

Harry groans as he uses his elbows to raise his body into a hunched sitting position. The hurting boy tries to open his eyes and raise his head enough to look at the man before him, though he realizes then that he is still not able to see and has no idea what or who stands in his cell, or his presumed-to-be cell, and in a spur of bravery he suddenly asks.

‘Can you remove the obscuro’ Harry whispers ‘...sir’ he adds, ‘I cannot see’

Harry then hears a man's laughter, and it sounds weirdly familiar. Though it can’t be, who does Harry know that would support Voldemort, it can’t be Professor Snape, can it? No, this voice doesn’t belong to Snape. Harrys musings get interrupted by the man's voice once again.

‘For merlin's sake- i can’t call Voldemort down here to cast the countercourse can i?’ The man points out, ‘Now get up’ 

Harry tries to step up onto his feet but stumbles on the way and nearly falls backwards before two hands with nails like claws firmly grasp his shoulders, so hard that his skin must’ve broke. He quickly looks up in surprise but then remembers that he cannot see, so he tries to back away instead to escape the man but he is swiftly spinned so that his back is towards the man. The now irritated man then whispers a quick spell that ties Harry's arms behind his back. Once again Harry starts struggling against the bindings since he can't see and doesn’t know what the man will do next, he feels helpless and vulnerable standing with no way to defend himself if the man decides to attack him. 

‘If I didn't have an order to bring you up I would've already bitten you, you bitch’ The man barked at him and he could nearly hear how the man bared his teeth, it now clicked in Harry’s mind just who this man was, Fenrir Greyback, the insane werewolf who bites children for fun. Suddenly Harry felt like he really wanted to abide by the man's orders, getting massive headaches from the scar every now and then was one thing, but being a werewolf on top of that? He would probably go mad, if he ever got out of this cell to say. 

Harry then stopped struggling and tried to calm his nerves, it now seems a bit stupid to fight against a undentified man when he has no eyesight, but Gryffindors aren’t known for thinking much, Harry guesses this will have to change for the time he stays here. The hat _did_ say he was made for Slytherin.

The man is now pulling Harry forward as they quickly walk, he has no idea how long they have walked or how his surroundings look, he only knows that he feels warmer air the further away they get from his cell. He walks up a flight of stairs and feels the stone floor end and instead be replaced with clean wooden floors, he is now further assured that it's some sort of mansion he's in, possibly the one Voldemort himself stays in. His musings get interrupted by a wash of cold fear, the house Voldemort himself resides in, Voldemort, the man who promised that his followers would be entertained by him, the Voldemort, the madman who kills muggles for fun and knows the worst ways to torture and break a human. 

He hears a set of doors open and a smell of sweat and blood waft onto him. Harry now doesn’t care if Greyback will bite him, he pulls his body quickly away from the man and falls to the ground, since the man didn’t have a chance to react to the quick move. Harry now tries to crawl away with his hands behind his back before he gets spelled with Petrificus Totalus by someone above him…. above him, but he can’t hear any voices… . Greyback was by his side, so there must be more than one person in this room.

He then hears a man rustle with something, just a few meters away from him. It nearly sounds like ropes, but why would two prisoners be brought here. Harry had thought that he was the only “toy” they had. Just a second after he hears the rustle, he feels someone touch his arms by the part where the ropes are and begin to cut them off. When he feels the cold air reach the spots where the rope once sat, he is also able to move again. The first thing Harry thinks to do is to sit up and look around, even if he can’t see. 

‘My lord, your obscuro spell is still in action’ Greyback reminds Voldemort, immediately after Greyback mentions it, Harry feels his eyes hurt as a sudden influx of light enters them. For a second he is blinded but then his eyes get used to the light. He looks around and what he sees makes him nearly cry out to his mother, which he probably would have if he had grown up with crying out to her, and not punished at the mention of her name. 

Harry is standing to one side of a room shaped like a circle, on the sides there are meters high walls, upon those walls rows upon rows of death eaters sat, all with the demon like metallic masks resting on their faces. At the side of the ring a man sits on a high chair, Voldemort, with a malicious smirk in his direction, it must’ve been the first time Harry sees an inkling of a smile on the man's face. 

Harry's attention is pulled forward as he abruptly has to dodge a spell that comes from the opposite side of the room. There in front of him a man stands, with battered robes and a broken expression, like it pains him to cast the spell. Harry also notices that the man doesn’t hold a wand and managed to cast it wandlessly, what spell it was Harry doesn’t know, but it can’t be very dangerous since only easy spells can be cast wandlessly by someone who isn't as powerful as Dumbledore.

Harry tries to remember how he escaped from Dudley's gang in the past, but the only thing he knows of is that he used to run and hide, which he obviously can’t in an empty circular room. With fear and confusion in his eyes Harry looks up as the man runs towards him, he doesn’t even have the time to duck as the man's fat fist flies towards his cheek. Harry's head flies to the side and he falls down onto his knees, the man quickly takes advantage of Harry's moment of surprise and pushes Harry onto his back so he can pin down Harry's body with his own bodyweight. His fists plummet down upon Harry's face as tears stream down his face. Repeated words of ‘I'm sorry, i'm sorry’ he cries out in regret. Pain is blooming all through his face and this is much much worse than the slaps he would get from Petunia, only the cruciatus curse was worse. Just after a few seconds Harry starts to feel faint and just a second later he faints, with not even a single hit put upon the crying man. 

  
  


<>

Harry wakes up with a cry, his arms and legs are tied down to some sort of table. He can’t see much since his head is being pushed into the tabletop by a strong hand, but he hears the sizzle of something metal in a fire. The hand is now grasping his head tighter and Harry realizes what they are about to do.

‘NO, NO, PLEASE NO’ he cries out as a burning hot piece of metal is branding a mark into the space between his shoulder blades. ‘PLEASE, PLEASE STOP’ he continues, but the pain doesn’t stop, it feels like his skin is melting and the pain is spreading all through his body. The metal is getting pushed further and further and Harry just wishes he would faint, or that his body isn't able to handle the pain and just die. It feels like years had passed when the metal was removed. Harry wants to question why the man is doing this, he had already fought, was this the price he had to pay for his loss? But the only thing he can do it to sob loudly, so loudly he nearly screams. If Voldemort were here he would probably call him childish, but he is after all only fourteen. 

The ropes that bind him are released as a hand pulls him up, he then comes face to face with a man he's never seen before, the man smiles in glee and pleasure when he sees the tear stricken face of the saviour that destroyed the body of his master thirteen years ago. He is not gentle with the young boy as he grasps his hair and pulls him up, till he can push the boy into a standing position. 

‘Walk, boy’ he hissed at the child, Harry looked at him with pleading eyes but understood that this was not the time to argue, he was so tired he just wanted to sleep and wished for the pain to disappear by morning.

The man walks from a dark - dungeon like room through corridors after corridors of old aged stone, until they reach the dungeons, suddenly when they reach a cell that looks like all the others the man pushes him. Harry falls into the cell and barely manages to catch himself before his head hits the ground, he twists his head back so quickly that he feels a pain in his neck, to look at the man. The man has already started to attach the lock to the iron door of the cell. 

‘Since ye lost the fight, you’ll get no food tonight’ the man laughed out, Harry imagines himself to grasp the iron bars and beg for his release, but his body is in so much pain, all he can do is to fall into a painful slumber.

<>

A week later, after having lived in the dusty cell for days and eating a disgusting soup of what smells like rotten meat he hears that a man is banging on his cell bars with a metal knife, ‘wake up ye lazy sod’ It’s the man from yesterday, the one who branded him. Harry is suddenly pulled back into the memories of yesterday and scurries back to the wall to create as much space as possible between him and the man. Harry also tries to muster up all the courage he has and asks the man

‘Who are you’ with a voice hoarse from the screaming from the day before, and the man impatiently responds with a huff of ‘Amycus Carrow, now get up’. Since the man was at least kind enough to answer the question, Harry decides to follow his order and rises to his feet. When Harry gets up to the bars the man unlocks the door and grabs Harry's neck and pulls him forward so that they walk beside each other once again.

Now when he can see, he notices how after the flights of stairs they reach a run down, but clean room with bloodstains that have been bleached off all over the floor. He understands that this much be the room he entered before he went into the ring, which must mean…. . The doors that suddenly appear before him open and Amycus puts the knife in his hand, when Harry looks back at him with a questioning look, he just shrugs and pushes him into the room with his foot. 

Harry looks at the other side of the circle where his enemy stands, he sees someone not much older than him, they could’ve even gone to Hogwarts with him. They also have a knife and Harry realizes that this fight will be much more difficult than the one he had a week ago. 

He hears the sharp sound of a whistle and suddenly the boy in front of him charges forward. With his knife shakily held in front of him, Harry tries to avoid the knife of the more skilled boy. When the boy suddenly thrusts the dagger forward, Harry doesn’t have time to avoid it and gets a gash across his shoulder blade. The adrenaline now starts pumping in his veins and he tries to find any opening to land a hit on the boy, when the boy is getting ready to charge again, Harry acts.


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is once again stuck in the fight ring, but somethings different this time

Harry sees the boy's arm start to swing back as he was getting ready to quickly thrust it in at Harry's face. Before the boy had been running towards him and Harry then had more time to think about what he should do, but now he only has time to act, and he has to act fast.

As quickly as he can, with his malnourished and weak arms, Harry tries to attack. He pulls his arm which was slightly behind his back and forward and -without thinking-, drives the knife forward towards the nearly innocent boy. He sees the knife near the boy's stomach and feels a blink of regret, but Harry has no time to stop. He watches the knife slowly enter the side of the boy's stomach in a gruesomely slow way.

Harry doesn’t know what to do, he can’t even pull the knife out, he just freezes and stares at what he's done, the boy could’ve died. Harry could’ve been a murderer, the boy might die from blood loss. In shock, Harry backs up and looks at the boy's face, and he looks outraged. Harry knows he’ll be killed if he doesn’t at least try to defend himself, but can he truly live with himself if he takes the life of another? even if it’s in self defence. Since Harry’s too unsure in his decision to attack or run and instead gets slowed down by the thinking, the boy has time to attack Harry once again, his sharp knife plummets down towards Harry's leg and creates a deep gash that has Harry falling down and gasping for help. It first just felt like a tingle, like something just hit his leg, then he felt the burning. A heat that can be compared to the day he was branded, yet in one way he felt numb. Once before this the man had stabbed Harry on his shoulder blade and enough time had passed for Harry to lose so much blood that he would soon faint. The gash on his leg is now also spurting blood every second and Harry has now lost enough blood to faint, which he does.

<>

Harry dreams of snakelike faces, of his mothers scream as she's murdered and the outraged face of the unknown boy as he gets murdered right in front of harry. He dreams of what’ll happen if the revenge loving death eaters get their hands on him, and Harry lies there, in his cell when he wakes up, staring at the ceiling and wondering if this all is just a dream. In what reality could he possibly go from the rich and famous (oh how he loathes that word) boy-who-lived to a bruised and bloody dirty boy who only owns the rags on his body. If he were to think positively he would be thankful for at least having someone there to tend to his wound, even if it’s probably some rich Death Eaters house elf. Maybe the Dursleys were right on one thing at least, he really was a freak. Though would a freak be so scared of hurting someone that he lets himself be murdered? 

Back at the Dursleys Harry only saved himself by hiding and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, right? It must be so, Harry would remember if he ever tried to use magic or violence against the Durleys, especially because Harry doesn’t believe they wouldn't ever let him regret it. Though it would be just like the dursleys to act like nothing had ever happened. It still isn't possible, he must have felt the magic if he was powerful enough to wandlessly scare them, and he didn’t, since he couldn’t even succeed with the simple wingardium leviosa spell. Yes, he isn’t especially powerful.

Though he should really try to fight harder next time, he would probably go mad if he had to go trough torture once a week. The pain of the knife and the pain of the burning were both worse than anything he had ever felt, who knows if it would get worse or if the death eaters would get bored of watching him loose. If he were to get a knife again, he should try and hit his opponent at least once. On a spot that couldn't kill them, or not kill them quickly. Possibly the arm? elbow? Harry doesn’t know anything at anatomy but he knows that getting stabbed in the chest or stomach is probably bad. 

Harry gets interrupted in his musings by a rough voice rasping

‘Hey Potter, listen’ After hearing the voice he looks towards the direction in which it came from in the blink of a second and sees a regal woman standing there, she’s wearing the dark Death Eater robes and Harry thinks it must be the time he's  _ really _ going to die. Why else would someone who isn’t Carrow (who sometimes patrolled the cells) be here. 

‘The Death Eaters are getting bored with your… reluctance to fight, I'm afraid they will kill you if you do not give them more entertainment’ She drawls, Harry guesses this is the only way she knows of to make him fight more. It really must be boring as a Death Eater, with being so bored that you have to watch people  _ kill _ each other.

‘y’know them killing me wouldn’t be as bad as fighting for their entertainment every bloody week,  _ ma’am _ ’ Harry seethed, speaking like this to the woman could get him killed, but he was too tired to even bother with caring. 

‘Ohhh, they didn’t tell you’ the woman squealed happily ‘we Purebloods aren’t unfair, you wouldn’t just go back to this cell if you win. After each fight you win you get better and better accommodations' 

‘And why should i believe you, this could just be a plot to get me to fight harder, did you place some type of bet on me?’ Harry questions

‘I can’t say i have a way to prove it, but would it really hurt to try?’ she asks with a polite smile, Harry really wants to respond with ‘yes it would hurt the person i had to  _ kill’ _ But he has to admit, he is interested. Since he already has a plan to fight back, this just ads some fuel to the fire to the urge to win. For now he has to put some of his slytherin qualities to use.

‘I’ll fight, but on one condition, you will have to answer my question’ Harry suggests, and surprisingly she agrees.

‘What weapons will I get next match, the same as last?’ Harry then asks, and she responds ‘If you don’t show any results, the weapons will get more and more fatal. So next time it might be a knife or a sword again, just something bigger than last time’ Harry now feels like his plans won't be enough, being put against a grown man with a sword? he will die or kill, there really isn’t a third option… but there's just a small chance that she's telling the truth, if the womans lying he might have to live here another week, even if he wins. Though he did promise.

‘Then i’ll try my best’ he promises and looks right in her eyes to assure the woman even more.

‘Good’ she sharply reponds and swiftly leaves. 

Harry really doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into, but if he survives he’ll have to get used to this life anyways, it might be advantageous in the future if he is on good terms with the Death Eaters. So far Greyback detests him and Carrow doesn’t  _ hate _ him, and this unknown woman has already made a deal with him. If he gets better and better accommodations, he might have the opportunities to befriend death eaters and find Voldemort's weak spots. That information might help Dumbledore in the future, the old man has helped him so much in the past, it’s only right if he does this at least.

Harry falls asleep that night as he plans how to fight and what he’ll do if his opponent attacks.

<>

The whole week Harry spends his free time (which before was occupied by staring at a crack in the wall) stretching and trying to train on holding a knife. This is difficult since he doesn't have a teacher nor a knife, but he makes do with what he has. Time keeping was also hard since he only had the food times to go off and often missed a meal or two.

<>

Harry barely slept the day the match was to be held, spending the whole night stressing over what's to come. He is plagued by thoughts like, I might die today, die and never return, he will never see Hermione, Ron, Seamus, dean or even the old grumpy Filch (though Harry’s not sure if that's negative) again. There are too many things he’ll miss if he died, so he will not allow a loss.

He even tries to meditate before he hears Carrows confident footsteps walking towards his cell. Harry stands up tall, even if he isn’t confident, he’ll just have to fake it.

‘Well, well, someones prepared te’ fight’ Carrow cackles in surprise, before the match a week ago Harry had been lying on the dirty ground, like he just wanted to disappear. But now he is standing by the opening of the cell, with his head held high and adrenaline rushing through his veins.

‘Of course i am, i'm preparing to win’ Harry confidently responds, ‘okay, okay, you may be all high and mighty now, but do you even know how to use a knife?’ Carrow argues with a laugh. What Carrow didn’t know was that Harry sometimes stole the dursleys old kitchen knife, so he could protect himself if he ever went out. 

‘do you think my opponent does?’ Harry quippes, while stepping closer to the door as Carrow is opening it while responding, ‘Thas right, i’ll place me’ bets on you then, but you betta’ win’ he says as he pulls harry forward like he did a week ago. 

When they walk up to the door and Carrow hands him the knife, Harry feels all his bravery run out, and it's replaced by fear. He must do this, but Harry’s not sure if he can. 

‘There ye’ go’ Carrow mutters as he makes a mock salute at Harry, before the doors close.

‘I'm fucked’ Harry mutters, the man opposite him is big, but not especially muscly. He looks like the wizard version of Vernon Dursley. It will be harder to make small wounds, but Harry won't abandon his plans, cause he can _ not _ die.

Harry tightens his grip on the knife and slowly stalks forward, the man before him guaffes loudly at the scrawny shaking boy. This act would not scare the most, but Harry is thrown back in the memories of his uncle, one of the people that filled him with fear bigger than the Death Eaters, who could kill him at any second.

The man is now suddenly rushing forward, sweat is running down his neck and the knife is held in front of him with two hands. Harry quickly runs to the side in response, to avoid being in the way of the big man. When the man is close to him, he slides to the side and tries to stick his knife in the man as quickly as he can. Harry manages to get a small cut through the fat of the man's hip, after it the man screams in rage and it sounds just like it was taken out of a horror film. He twists his face towards Harry and glares harder than Snape does on a day full of cauldron explosions.

Harry feels defenseless once again, he’s too scared to stab the man again, since he could get hit in the man's rage. He backs up towards the wall behind him and the man stalks forward. Harry closes his eyes and wishes to all in the world to just give him something to survive, when he opens his eyes the man is closer. He now looks identical to Vernon and Harry wonders if they actually brought him away from Privet drive just to fight, it also reminds Harry of the moments Vernon punished him as a child, when he beat and starved him. 

He looks up as the man lifts his knife high above Harry and throws his arm downwards. Harry suddenly feels his magic act and has a strong flashback to his past. It’s him at 8 years, sitting between the back gardens bushes, hidden. His uncle is standing just in front of him, with a knife raised above his head just like the fat man. But something different in this memory, the young Harry suddenly screams and raises his hands. A wave of magic erupts from the boy and his uncle gets thrown all the way over the fence to their neighbors. 

When Harry slowly comes back to consciousness, the man is lying ten meters away from Harry, with a pool of blood seeping from his head, and his arms twisted at an awkward angle. The sides of the fighting ring are buckled, like something hard crashed into them. Harry then looks up at the Death Eaters and they are all watching him with a mix of fear and interest, Harry even sees Lucius Malfoy sitting in the crowd, but as usual he just has a bored look on his pointy face. Harry then takes a moment to think, it's hard to focus with a sudden influx of memories coming up with every minute that passes. Of him executing magic at only a few years old that even dumbledore can’t do. Though it all is so illogical, why was he so bad in school if he was more powerful than anyone his age.

Harry decides to ponder more when he's back in the cell, and then feels the tiredness that he ignored before coming back, and stumbles before the doors that open before him. Outside the doors the woman that he saw before stands, she explains how she is the guard for the low level captives that have only won a few fights. Though since Harry used wandless magic to defeat the man, he gets to have one of her best rooms. By best she means that he at least gets a bed. 

When Harry gets to the room he nearly gasps in happiness, in his new cell there is a mattress. He won't have to sleep on the cold hard floor anymore! There is also a sink on the opposite side of the room and right in the middle there's a small hole where a bit of light shines through. Compared to his last cell, this is a paradise. He will have a much better time practicing for the next fight here.

The woman has already left when he enteres the cell, Harry now has time to think about his memories and past. He remembers throwing Dudley away from him after he tried to steal his food once again, when he was only 3 , so hard that Dudley broke his arm on the hard kitchen counter. He also remembers lifting Petunia away from her watch at the entrance of his cupboard door so that he could leave it, after she misplaced the lock on his door.

Harry is now going to train on the new magic he learned, or the magic he always knew, but could never execute. This is for he has to use any means he can for survival and if there's a chance he can use magic to win, he has to. Harry tries to mimic what he felt last time, the magic flowing through his body like a waft of warm air coming from below. He feels his magic rise around him and can nearly taste it in the air, it's dark, in no way does his magic feel comfortable. It's like it’ll lash out any second and create destruction. Though it doesn’t, it’s still. Harry tries to make it lift the mattress but is unsuccessful when he uses the incantation. Instead he tries to use his hands and willpower, he tries to tell himself that he has to lift the mattress, he needs to lift the mattress. He directs the magic towards his hands and slowly Harry sees the mattress lift by a few centimeters, but he doesn't manage to lift it any higher.

Day after day Harry tries to learn how to use this wild magic, but he doesn’t get much further than he had the first day. In his frustration, he lets his magic lash out on the sink and it breaks in just a second. Harry gasps in surprise and regrets losing control so easily, though he knows how he'll win the fight now.

<>

On the third day in his new cell the woman comes to bring him out, apparently the captives meet once a week. The Death Eaters say it's to create tension between them for a better match, but Harry thinks it's just so they can kill each other quicker.

When Harry enters the room, all eyes turn towards him. The room which had before been quiet quickly breaks out in whispers, because he's too young and because everyone knows who he is. The woman quickly leaves, she wouldn’t want to get in between them now. It’s rare for someone to avoid getting into a fight the first day, and Harry won't be an exception. This is made obvious by the man who stalks forward as soon as she leaves the room.

‘Are ye’ the famous Harry potter?’ the man laughs ‘ye’ don’ look much like a man who killed voldemort to me’

‘I killed him when I was a year old, what the hell do you think I'd look like?’ Harry provokes, he tries to sound more like the men in the room, he doesn’t want to stand out by being too polite or cowardly.

‘Maybe someone who isn’t held captive just to fight for the death eaters, I expected a little more height, power and not a little boy who doesn’t look like he's eaten a whole meal e in his whole life’ another man butts in.

‘You're held captive here too, you know how much food we get’ Harry snapped, he is still standing in the middle of the room, just by the door. So he doesn't notice the door open as another man enters the room. The man suddenly puts a hand on Harry's shoulder and whispers ‘is that a way to speak to your elders’ in his ear. Harry quickly turns and looks at the man who looks like he’s killed a thousand men. 

‘What's it to you’ Harry snarled in false bravery, which he immediately notices is the false response as the man goes to swing his fist right at harry. Harry then feels his magic rise like it did back in the cell and thrusts it towards the man, who goes flying back. In panic, Harry makes the magic pull on the arm which he used to punch and makes it pop out of its socket. 

The whole room is quiet, and the next second it erupts in yells.


	4. The men

Some of the men in the room who, just a second before were acting as tough as ever, are now scrambling, pushing their chairs away and trying to get as far away from the boy who just nearly killed the strongest of them without neither a wand or a warning. These men fought every week, and even those fights only ended with a bloody nose or a broken arm at most. They had never seen someone being thrown so hard into one of the dungeon walls that they fainted, and that the perpetrator who is one of them doesn’t end it with that, he also dislocates the man's arm. All the while Harry looks detached, not a single shred of empathy or regret is shown during the fight. Admittedly, some of the men are scared of the boy who they had before only known as a spoiled and famous child. 

Nevertheless, these men hadn’t survived this long by waiting and hiding in fear, or by having any self preservation. It was only a matter of time before someone would bring the room back to the happy aura it had before.

‘How in the bloody fuck did you do that’ a short man with a long scar across his throat croaks out. Some of the more timid men flinch at his brash approach, and are apprehensive about what's to come, but the boy surprises them by answering with “I’m actually not sure myself, I learned it three days ago’ and a youthful laugh escapes his mouth. 

Harry himself isn’t even sure why he laughs, he is tired and just so shocked at what he just did, what even is the appropriate reaction for that? Most people would fear themselves or try to harness the power, but Harry had learnt that, even if you knew the act was bad, after it had happened worrying would only be a waste of time. Before he hurt the kid in the fighting ring he felt anguished by the concern of whether he would hurt the boy, which was a way to keep himself from hurting the boy without a thought, just like he did with Dudley.

When Dudley and his gang had gone after Harry, he at first tried to avoid violence, even in the form of self defence. Though young Harry soon learned that fighting was necessary at times to escape danger, as long as you don’t use it excessively. When they cornered him in a park to taunt him, he stayed still, but when they came too close in a dark alleyway, he fought his way free. As a consequence of this, he learnt to detach himself from it and decided that this was a good moment to do so, his magic isn't being controlled and if it was he would be in danger. 

So Harry laughs, and this makes the energy in the room lighten immediately. He sees some of the men in the left corner look at him appraisingly and wonders if they are going to ask him about the magic, but they seem to just watch from a distance, learning information about him without ever talking. In the other side of the room a group of men sit and laugh, a big contrast to the watching men, these didn’t seem to have a care in the world and used this small moment of socialisation to act like everything was normal.

Harry was never one for acting like all was good when it wasn’t and went towards the left side, scared shitless. Even though these men don’t seem violent, Harry is after all a fourteen year old boy who can’t do much against a group of strong men. Nevertheless, he has to get some allies here, who knows how long he will be kept in this shithole, yes, shithole. Molly will kill him if she hears what words he uses here, she will probably kill the other men here too. For now it doesn’t matter what Molly would think of them, it is all he has.

Harry walks closer as the men slowly watch him, when he is within hearing range one of them mutters, ‘Ain’t gon’ hang with the gryffs over there?’ and for a second Harry doesn’t understand what the man means, he isn’t known for being bright after all, but Harry slowly understands that he is insinuating that only gryffindors would be partying during a time like this.

‘Why would anyone party when we could be killing each other just tomorrow, just creating problems the lot of them’ Harry counters, and the men all laugh loudly at his response, ‘That's what we’ve been saying for ages, they just drown their worries those’ 

‘What do you even do to drive the time in here?’ Harry asks not expecting a response, though shockingly one of the men quietly answers with ‘escape plans’, and of course Harry's first response is ’Don’t say it so goddam loudly, they’re gonna believe you, you know’ 

‘I ain’t lyin’ boy’ the man responds, but serious now, he is leaning forward, one arm on the raggedy wooden table kept in this room. The other men also turn quiet but try to not look too still, someone will suspect they are plotting something otherwise.

‘And why are you telling me this?’ Harry scoffs, already knowing the answer.

‘Cause’ you’re bloody powerful, who else can get us out here other than the man who just killed the strongest of us without even batting an eye?’ Another man quipps, he is sitting further back than the other man and Harry has therefore not looked at him before. He too, like many men in the room, has a face and arms which are littered with scars. 

‘Did you miss the part where i said i only learnt it three days ago, do you guys even have a plan?’ Harry sneers, as he sits down in the first chair he sees, facing the man he is talking to, and the other men beside him.

‘I guess you could call it a plan, we meet here some weeks from now, when the guards come to collect us, you do your little magic thing, and we grab their wands, after that they stand no chance. The weak of as are already dead, so the ones who are still standing cannot be beat’ The scarred man explains. 

‘What will we do if i can’t get the magic to work, huh?’ Harry snidely asks

‘Then were all dead so you better get that shit in check’

‘I am known for having luck on my side’ Harry points out

‘Great luck you have being put in here’ another man jokes as the men in the corner laugh together.

‘Hey I found this magic thanks to it, it ain’t even that bad here, you should meet my relatives, then you can speak’ Harry jokes back, he weirdly enough felt comfortable enough to admit his relatives were abusive, something he didn’t even tell Ron or Hermione, he knew that these men all went through worse or the same as him sometime during their life. They have no reason to pity him, and this theory is proven true as the men laugh with him as if it was just another lighthearted joke. 

‘Hey boy, why not try and perform it here, these other idiots trust you too much, i think thas’ why they look like a pair of scissors went wild on their faces, but i wanna know if you can learn to control it‘ Says the only man without at least three scars in his face. 

  
  
  


‘Like this?’ Harry challenges as he makes the man's chair float without moving a single muscle, ‘There isn’t much more i’ve tried, and don’t fucking call me boy, just call me Harry’ and the non scarred man responds with ‘Edward or ward’ (Werent edwards usually called ed? harry wondered) the other men he had talked to also listed their names after him, the scarred man ‘Anthony or Tone ’ and the first man he talked to ‘Tim’ 

‘Now when thas’ over with, stun me`

‘What’ Harry laughs in shock, why the hell would someone want to be stunned

‘Fucking Wingardium leviosa ain’t gon’ save us from them, but a good ass stunner might, now stun me’

Harry narrows his eyes but gladly obliges, he then puts his hand up so it is pointing towards Ward ‘to channel my magic’ he quickly explains. Harry closes his eyes and tries to feel his magic rise through his body, he imagines Ward stunned and makes himself want him to be stunned. As he feels the magic rise he also feels it get stuck in his hand, Harry then understands why it isn’t working. He can’t pool magic like the floating spell, he has to shoot it.

He then opens his eyes and shoots the magic out his arm, the magic flies towards Ward and he falls to the floor in a heap. Harry's looks at him in shock, ‘Bloody hell’ Tone gawks. Tone isn’t the only man shocked, all the men in the corner watch in astonishment at the feat performed by Harry. 

‘I know it's great news an’ all, but how were we supposed to get him back…’ Harry wonders, ‘Can’t you just rennervate im’ 

‘...Nah…’ Harry snickers out, the other men quickly laugh with him and then they all start to try out different spells that they could use against the Death Eaters. The one who contributes most to this apart from Harry is surprisingly Tone, he is an experienced fighter and knows all the spells they could need. Harry weirdly feels like he fits in with this group and wonders how he was supposed to go back to Hogwarts when this was over. Ron and Hermione are kind and all, but they will never understand what he has gone through, he can’t speak to them like he speaks to these men.

When Harry is tired out from the magic usage, they start to discuss how the escape is to be executed, they decide that Harry is going to stay back at first, to not appear like a threat. As the men go to leave he will shoot his magic at the death eaters close and stun them, the men who were now close to the death eaters will catch them so as to not alert anyone to the noise. As they pocket their wands and walk forward, Harry will be in the back once again. This is so that the men create a wall of protection around him, they are close fighters, and Harry fights from afar. After that there isn’t much they can plan, none of them knows how the manor looks, so they will just hope for the best and attack any they see. They all try to remember if there is a door in the corridors they’ve walked by, but no one can remember any.

They don’t have any time left to talk though, since the Death Eaters who are supposed to bring them back to the cells just arrived. They all say quick goodbyes and give each other some slaps on the back. 

<>

The week after the men discuss their plans of escape, Lord Voldemort allows a group of Death Eaters to come down to Harry's cell and taunt him. They say he wants to break him even more before his death, and what better way to do that than letting his faithful followers get revenge for their family and friends. 

The first group that came down don't do much, they only joke about how pathetic he looks and insult the light. The most they do to hurt him is sending a stinging hex to see him twitch. 

The second group that came down the same day aren’t as kind as the last. One of the Death eaters' brothers had been killed by Harry's parents in the first war. In her opinion, The dark lord killing him would be revenge enough, but making him suffer would only make it greater. As her brother had bled to death from a cutting hex to the face, she gives him a wound in the exact same place where her brother had gotten it. She heals it after, he can’t die before the dark lord gets to him after all, but the scar still stings. His face is already sensitive from the cold of the cells and now it feels like he has gotten his face ripped up by a werewolf. It was small but somehow feels worse than the wounds he had gotten in the fights. 

Day after day the death eaters came by to seek revenge or just pass some time. They all love to call him the boy-who-lived or their saviour in an exaggerated way, just to ridicule him even more. Scar after scar appears on Harry's body and he can do nothing but try to avoid irritating them. 

What some of the Death Eaters do to harry down in those cells are things that i cannot write without feeling ill myself, but they will leave scars that reside on and within harry.

<>

After another two weeks of fighting and torturing by the Death Eaters the men meet for the third time, this time one of them is missing. Harry never counts them, but from the gloomy looks of them all, he quickly notices something is wrong.

‘What the hell happened? Is someone hurt’ Harry asks the men, and one of them, named Wayne/Way (apparently he chose that name in case someone asked, and in that situation he would respond with ‘cause i know a hundred  _ Ways _ to kill you’, a bit cheesy if you ask Harry but his name wasn’t much better) ‘Craig was killed, last match he started yellin’ an all at the Death Eaters and they killed him on the spot, them fuckin’ wankers came down and taunted me bout’ it’ He mutters with anger and hatred in his voice. Craig had been one of the bravest of them, never afraid to joke with the most dangerous of men. 

‘Were escaping today, there's no more time to wait’ Tone reveals to harry ‘When they get us today you must be ready’ 

Harry has been expecting this to come soon, but never today. Though he immediately starts training, sending stunner after stunner at the dungeon wall. After what feels like just seconds he hears the click clack of the Death Eater boots nearing the door and prepares himself for the first great escape of his life.

When the doors open the men in the room start to walk out as usual, everyone but Harry who's staying back. He’s watching them intently, he has to stun the death eaters just at the right moment or it’ll all be for naught. When Tone and Ward are just between them, he sneakily lifts his hands and directs them at the two victims. He sends the magic just like he did with ward, and the death eaters fall towards the ground in a heap, looking like ragdolls in Ward and Tones arms. The two men look towards Harry in happiness and shock, they all wish to succeed but they weren’t sure that it would come true. Even though they all want to celebrate, they try to keep quiet and keep following the plan.

Walking out of the room, they feel the cold air of the corridors they are all too familiar with. They walk towards the door they are all brought to when it's time to fight, and enter them. It might be suicide to go in there, but they have no other choice. These are the only doors they know can bring them away from the cells. 

The room looks the same as it always does, and Harry feels a rush of fear as he remembers the feeling of waiting here before a fight, not knowing whether he will ever leave the room again. Though Harry doesn’t have a lot of time to think as one of the men opens the door to the fighting ring. The fighting ring is emptier than he has even seen it, it nearly looks eerie with the lack of death eaters looking down at him, but Harry doesn’t have time to stare at the ring as they quickly rush towards the doors that stand before them. When the doors open its quiet, he hears no Death Eaters attacking them, or the yells of angry men.

After waiting a moment of staring at the sweet freedom, all of them rush outward, it feels surreal. How can it be so easy, why are they letting them go so effortlessly. The Death Eaters aren’t known for being careless, but it doesn’t really matter if it’s a trap. They need to escape now even if it seems too easy.

Harry nearly feels like he’s in a trance as he leaves the building. Right outside the door from the ring, there was a big open “living room” (or what the rich call it), and in that living room two big glass doors reside. As they walk through these big doors, the few men Harry can call something like friends pause. Harry wonders what he will do now, how will he adjust to the life inside Hogwarts, how will his friends react to him coming back, did they even look for him?

‘What will we do now? Harry ponders after a moment of silence, ‘i'm guessing none of you have houses to go to?’

‘We? we’ll just live on the streets, no one would sell a house to scum like us’ Tim interjects, ‘Huh’ harry then replies ‘What a coincidence that i happen to own the Black manor, it must have rooms for us all’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while to post as there is much work not towards the end of the year, but i could post more often if you would prefer it. The chapters would be shorter but come more often


End file.
